Page 13 of Imperfect Arrangement

I place my hands over Quill’s ears.

“Yes, Mr. Teager, your daughter can no longer hear us,” he confirms. His expression turns smug as he relays Raymond’s response. “It’s his absolute honor to get your ass safely back on the ground, Miss Pershing. Mr. Teager is eternally grateful for the opportunity.”

I bite down on a smile that threatens to break free. He can only dream about getting anywhere near my ass.

And that’s how I find myself minutes later, clutching Captain Lick’s bag tightly on my lap, stealing glances at the odd scene playing out around me.

Raymond pulls Quill closer, double-checking her harness for what has to be the hundredth time. Once he’s finally satisfied, his expression shifts from worry to a full-on scowl—directed entirely at me, like I’m the one who stuck his daughter on the Ferris wheel and hit the stop button.

“I’d like a word with you,” he grits out, his stare so intense it feels like daggers.

“No, thank you,” I shoot back, folding my arms.

The icy tension between us could freeze the entire chopper into an igloo.

But then, Quill shakes—a soundless, sweet giggle she tries to hide behind her tiny hands. It cracks the ice for a split second. I forget the war zone between her father and me. My lips almost betray me with a smile. And then I make the mistake of looking at Raymond, expecting him to still be seething.

I thought I’d seen every expression he was capable of, both in person and from a few too many hours Googling his name. But this soft smile on his face? It’s like it belongs to someone else entirely, transforming him in a way that’s…almost unfairly handsome.

“What’s so funny, Bug?” he asks, glancing down at his daughter with a warmth that’s—ugh, kind of endearing.

“Willow doesn’t like you, Dad,” Quill signs, beaming up at him like she just shared a big secret.

“You’d be absolutely correct, Quill,” I add, unable to resist.

Ray’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He clearly didn’t expect me to know sign language. His gaze is so intense it’s as if he’s trying to extract national secrets from me. But the moment breaks when Quill tugs on his jacket.

“Can I go on the Ferris wheel again, Daddy?”

I snicker quietly. Poor girl. Her dad isn’t letting her back on that ride anytime soon. But Raymond surprises me, saying, “You may, but not alone, and never without my permission.”

“Never?” I arch a brow, though I probably should stay out of their father-daughter moment.

A shadow crosses Raymond’s face, and he responds in a low, pointed tone, directing his answer at me even as he speaks to Quill. “Not until you’re old enough to make your own decisions.”

Completely unaware of the subtle sparring match happening between her dad and me, Quill signs, “I wasn’t alone, Daddy. I was with Willow and Captain Lick. You could see the whole town from up there.” She looks up at him, proud of herself for discovering something he didn’t know.

There’s a tiny bit of satisfaction in watching anyone, even his own kid, knock Raymond down a peg. But then Quill continues, proving she’s not exactly on Team Willow, either.

“Do you know Willow doesn’t have a dad? Like me, she only has one awesome parent.” She delivers this tidbit with the innocence of a child who doesn’t realize she’s opened up my life to the last person I’d ever choose to know about it.

I look away, out the window, anything to escape the exposure. But when I glance back, I catch Raymond blinking, almost like it’s the first time his daughter’s told him he’s doing a good job as a parent.

As much as I despise the businessman in him, I can’t deny the way he looks at Quill—like there’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t do for her happiness. The businessman might be ruthless, but the dad is pure, unfiltered devotion. For a girl like me, who didn’t have a good father figure in my early days—and then when Gramps was slowly filling that void, dementia ripped us apart—this is all too much to even make sense of.

Raymond runs a hand over his perfectly combed hair, re-centering himself. “I’m glad you had a good time, Bug. But I nearly had a heart attack seeing you up there.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Quill signs, then rests her head against his chest.

I never thought I’d consider the wordsRaymondandcutein the same sentence, but right now, the two of them look like the absolute definition of it.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I just need to know you’re safe all the time.”

“Does that mean I can go again with Willow and Captain Lick someday?”

Somehow, this girl has roped the Ferris wheel, me, and my dog into a package deal.

Raymond’s jaw tightens, but he simply says, “Let’s get you on the ground first, and we’ll talk about your next adventure later.”